The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1887-11-24
A Sermon In A Coal
Mine.
BY SARAH LEE,

the mountains are terra anc0gnatd
iuto which few travellers have cared to
penetrate. The entire eastern part Of
the State, embracing forty counties,
l. IA district of hills and kuubs varvlng
from one to three thousand feet in
height, down between which flows a
multiplicity If rivers, runs, creeks and
branches; the streams shoot in every
dir ctiou like the spouting from a
gardeners watering-pot.
Roads, strictly speaking, there are
none, and the mountain paths are
more than half the time impossible
for vehicles. Travel is dominated by
the streams. You lie down at night in
cabin at the side of tiny creek; in
the morning your scarcely perceptlble
streamlet has become roaring tor
rent, and your course is stayed till the
water goes down. The native sits in
his doorway, smoking his pipe, till
the rise is over, and he can go to mill,
a true picture of Oriental content and
indolence; where he is, or what he is
doing, matters as little to him as to
the Muslin, who says 'Bismillah!' to
good and i'll alike.
Valleys are narrow down there, and
farming is simple. Stones must be
gathered from the surface and piled
in heaps. They look like giants
cairns or Druids' affairs. And stumps
Of trees must be rooted up and burned
before ev,r the struggle OF blowing
on the muuntain-slde can be attempt
ed. The main effort is to raise corn
enough for the cattle and meal for
the household. The stocks make the
fodder
The people are sturdy in character
and hardy in their habits; they are
independent of the outside world
their wants are few; interests and am
bitions local, they know nothing and
care less for life beyond the noun
tains Their feuds are lasting as the
| Montagues and Capulets, and their
hospitality is as free as the Arabs.
The houses of unhewn logs are chink-
ed with mud, have chimneys built on
the outside, and boards laid for floors;
they are decorated within by strings
of red peppers and bags of dried ap-
pies and peaches. Your host gives
you the choice of long or short
sweetening," for your cofee-''short
sweetenin'" being brown sugar, and
LONG" sorgum syrup.
A mine Of wealth has lately been
discovered, in the numerous coal and
| iron beds which underlie the face of
of the earth. Railroads are rapidly
tunneling the mountains and bridg-
ing the streams, and soon the peculiar
characteristics will be as much thing
of the past as the slave-bloeks which
were such familiar feature of South
ern life in the ''brave days Of old"
There is little religion, or even the
sem blance Of it, in these wilds. The
Methodist circuit-rider, the colporteur
of the Bible Society, and the agent
of the Sunday School Union, wi h
| their occasional meetings, were form
erly the only heralds Of the gospel.
But since the country has been opened
up, home missionaries have of late oc-
cupied frontier posts, and while there
are still counties which can scarcely
| be distinguished from heathendom,
the people hear the word gladly; and
when the mountain evangelist, George
O. Barnes, made his tour through the
brush, he was everywhere received
with open hearts.
Geigersville, up in the heart of the
coal regions, was the first mining
town we had ever been in. and the
streets presented strange sight filled
with men and boys in their rough
mining suits and close-fitting skull
caps, ornamented in front with lit
tie tin lamp, shaped like diminutive
coffee-pot.
When the invitation came for M
Barnes to go down into the mine to
preach to those who could not leave
it, he gladly assented. We went in
on the tramway with dummy engine
and two open cars-the first filled
with visitors, and the other loaded
with begrimed colliers who had
knocked off work-all going mile
and half underground to hear SER
mon.
The men and boys went into the
tunnel singing, bowling and creating
pandem6nium, but at lull in the din
Miss Barnes, the singer, began in her
clear, sweet voice, Rock of Ages,
cleft for me-" AS voice after voice
joined in, the confusion quieted down,
until, when we reached Bunting's
Switch, the hearts of the hearers were
In tune for the solemn services that
followed.
The passway at the Switch is about
twenty feet wide. The little organ,
without which Mr.. Barnes never
travels, was unboxed and set up on
top of its own encasement, and there
the evangelist also stood. The visi-
tors sat in the car, while the miners
stood grouped around, or sat on bloc ks
of shining black coal, one of which
was brought for the organist's seat.
The only light was from the lamps on